The Essence of Youth
by ConnietheCat
Summary: As a fifth grader, Plumeria is expected to pay no mind to the younger kids in elementary school. However, one day at recess, she meets a kid with messy white hair and a wimpod. T for abuse mentions.


_How long do you think this story will be up before someone reviews only to complain about the capitalization of pokemon?_

 _Anyways, enjoy the story. I love Plumeria so I wrote this. **Warning:** child abuse stated. Carry on!_

 **The Essence of Youth**

There was a particular kid on Plumeria's street she didn't mean to pay mind to.

He was around one to two years younger than her, and according to other girls, a younger age meant that person was 'invisible.' He wouldn't have stuck out in her old neighborhood, with the grungy streets and ankle-biting rattata. But this kid with that scruffy white hair and those eyes filled with fierce emotion didn't seem right near Hau'oli City.

Of course, Plumeria's attitude wasn't exactly right for Hau'oli either. By the way she held herself, by the way she acted, and the other kids had to know Plumeria was different. But both she and they were nice enough, with no problems aside from the occasional giggle about one slightly rude thing or another said to a teacher.

Plumeria felt the light, comforting heat of her salandit around her shoulders, her crooked snout nuzzling the young girl's face, rustling her long, black hair. It was recess now, and kids patrolled the area, games of four-square or kickball intense and the most riveting thing so far in their young lives. Plumeria cringed as she heard a hard thud of a dodge ball hit the outside wall of the school. Despite the school's desperate attempts at banning the game, the children persisted.

Plumeria smirked at this _. Maybe this time getting drilled in the face at 90 mph will teach them a lesson,_ she found herself thinking for maybe the fifth time in threemonths alone. Other kids preferred to play with their pokemon, with the cheers and pleased noises emitting throughout the grounds.

That was what led Plumeria to see him.

She couldn't say that she had never seen him before, as she was much more concerned with other things, such as giving her salandit as much love as she could. Plumeria tried to stay away from the younger kids anyways; they were, compared to the older ones, dumb and hyper, with no control. Despite that, they were so endearing…but not enough to join them.

So why did she go to that scruffy kid sitting alone with his wimpod?

As her feet crunched onto the grass, the kid turned to face Plumeria. He had a different air to him than the other kids his age. It almost made Plumeria gasp; it was like she could feel a connection of something between them. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice annoying nasally but raspy.

Plumeria put her hands on her hips. "I don't want nothin,'" she responded. "I was just seein' why you were all alone." Her voice had a 'low' quality, almost deep – for a ten year old girl anyways.

He snorted and placed a hand on his wimpod, who scurried close to his side. "What's it to you?" he sneered, looking away from her. _Cocky kid,_ Plumeria thought.

Plumeria impatiently mushed the tip of her shoe into the ground. "Listen, there's only seven minutes left of recess, so if you want company, this is it," Plumeria hissed down at the little shrimp. She grinned as he looked back at her.

"My name's Guzma," he said, still looking up at her. He held up his wimpod, making its little legs scramble uselessly in the air. "This is my wimpod. I caught him all myself."

"Plumeria," she responded.

Guzma smiled. "That sounds too long."

"My full name's a lot longer," Plumeria said with a grin. She pointed out her darling salandit on her shoulder. "This is my salandit my dad got for me," Plumeria said, puffing out her chest, "I call her Darling."

"Fire-type right?" Guzma asked, and Plumeria nodded. "I like bug-types."

Plumeria was a bit surprised by the answer. The only kids she saw willingly use bug-types were, like, five, or the ultimate beginner for pokemon. Guzma continued, "I like 'em cuz they're creepy and can do a lot and can probably eat people."

Plumeria laughed at the answer. "One time, I toasted my mother's toes with Darling and I got in so much trouble," she then whispered, "It was awesome though." This caused Guzma to giggle.

Guzma pointed near the doors of the school, where teacher were beginning to trickle into the outdoors to call in children. "Time's up, Plumes," he said regrettably. Plumeria blinked at hearing the nickname. No one had given her one before, aside from her dad! "Can we play again tomorrow?"

How could Plumeria say no?

A week went by, and Guzma and Plumeria became good friends. She was in fifth grade and he in third, but the two stayed together. They even arranged a get together, though Guzma insisted on the meeting being at Plumeria's house. But the two got together still, at Plumeria's house on the outskirts of Hau'oli.

Plumeria's dad was a cheerful fellow. He was usually wearing bright colors like yellow or orange, and the inviting colors contrasted nicely with his dark skin. Family members even joked that he could be a model, though in Plumeria's opinion, it was all just basic.

For a kid, Guzma wasn't that much shorter than Plumeria, which of course, her dad had to point out. Plumeria rolled her eyes with a smile. "Daddy, this is Guzma! He's the kid friend I told you about," she introduced.

Guzma had his eyes down. "Nice to meet you sir," he said, swallowing back nervousness.

Plumeria's dad chuckled. "Please, no sir business! Makes me feel older than I am," he said, "You kids go play, I'll make some snacks." And he went out of their way.

"He's a nice guy," Guzma whispered.

Plumeria scoffed. "Yeah, he's fine." She turned towards the back of her house, where there was a screen door leading to the backyard. "Let's try out battling, G."

Guzma looked around Plumeria's house. It was nothing fancy, but not shabby. There was a small bookshelf next to the living room couch, and various flowering plants littered tables and counters. Framed photos and trinkets decorated walls and shelves alike. "Hey Plumes, where's your mother?" Guzma asked.

Plumeria froze as she was about to open the screen door. With a scowl, she continued opening it. "Unfortunately, some place where I can't get to her with my Darling knowin' a good flamethrower." She muttered coldly.

However, just as the girl was about to step out, Guzma froze in his tracks. Plumeria looked at the kid, confused, before he spoke. His eyes were on the golf bag lying in the corner of the room. "Yo, d-does your dad play golf?" Guzma asked, a strange infliction to his voice Plumeria hadn't heard of him before.

"Yes?" Plumeria answered hesitantly. "He's annoying about it too. He's gotten me to go with him for almost all of his games," she tried to lighten the sudden dark mood. "I swear I know every single rule and more about the stupid game."

Guzma laughed lightly, but it sounded choked out. With a wary glance, Plumeria and Guzma were outside, fighting with their pokemon. It was like that for years. After all, Plumeria could start her trial faster than Guzma, and helped him catch up to her.

One day, after school had gotten out and a seventh-grade level Plumeria had gotten out of school, Guzma's house phone was rung up. The visits that Plumeria herself had to her best friend's house were minimal, but she knew where he lived and his number. With one hand on her jutted out hip and the other grasped to her phone, she looked like quite the 13-year-old stereotype.

Eventually, the phone was picked up, and the deep voice of Guzma's father answered. "Hello? Is this Plumeria?" he asked.

Plumeria cringed. She knew there was something up with Guzma's dad, but there was no real way to bring it up. _'Hey, I have the suspicion that your dad is beating you! Gee, that reminds me of my mother! How about that! Wanna cry about our suffering?'_

"Um, yes, I was wantin' to speak with G," she mumbled, hating how her voice sounded. There was shuffling on the other end of the line. Plumeria could have sworn she heard 'Guzma, your girlfriend's callin' you!' She stifled a groan.

"Yo," Guzma's voice answered mere seconds later.

"What'sup?" Plumeria responded, clearing her mind of what she had been thinking before. "I was just calling to see how you're getting along in fifth grade. Have you thought of taking the trials yet? Do you still have no friends?" It wasn't meant to spill like that.

Guzma snorted. "Whoa, what are you, my mom? My sister?" He laughed. "Big sis Plumeria?"

Plumeria had to keep in a giggle. "Well, this big sis is gonna check on her dumb brother as much as she wants!"

It was so nice like this. And Big Sis Plumeria never let any of her silly, dumb little brothers and sisters be neglected.


End file.
